


On A Cold Winter's Night

by MissChioga



Category: Four Brothers (2005)
Genre: I'll try to write something where Jack doesn't die later, Sorry guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:45:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissChioga/pseuds/MissChioga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have seen plenty of blood in my lifetime, more times than not I had been the one who had shed the blood. But this was different, against Jack's pale skin, the blood was brighter, it was staining everything. The white shirt that Jack had decided to wear that morning, the snow under him, the skin on his face as the blood goes from his mouth onto his cheek and then flows into the snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On A Cold Winter's Night

He's fucking smiling.

I can't believe that after he's been shot, and he's convulsing, and blood is coming pouring from his mouth and the little fairy is fucking smiling at me. What the hell was he thinking, opening the door and chasing that guy out into the middle of the road? I know that I taught him better than that…at least I thought I had, maybe I missed it when I was gone.

If he dies, I swear to God anyone that ever thought about touching any of my family is going to be burned alive. I can almost hear their screaming as I watch my baby brother convulse on the snow. I want to take my jacket off and wrap it around him, but with all the blood he's lost a jacket isn't going to do shit for him, and I don't want to move him.

"Jack. Jack, come on, please."

I can hear myself crying, Jack's only seen me cry once, and I had never meant to let him see me cry again. I was his rock in this life, the strong one that could be counted on when he need someone to be strong for him. Jack couldn't always be strong like he wanted to be, and I was glad that he couldn't be. We needed one brother to not be a hot head.

He was screaming for me during the gun fight, screaming for me to swoop in and save him like I always did when he was little. I tried to...I tried to get out there but there had been to many bullets being shot. I wasn't there to comfort him when I should have been.

"Come on Jack, you gotta breath."

He didn't have a fucking choice in this matter. I refused to lose my little brother, especially during a war that had started, trying to get revenge for out mother. I never expected to come out of this alive, but now I realize that that thought was a complete crock of shit. The person that started the war never seemed to die, it was always those who weren't supposed to be a part of the battle in the first place.

I can't let him leave me like this. He'd had such a shitty childhood, had lost all of the innocence that no eight year old should ever have to lose and now he was going to go out in one of the most brutal ways possible and it was all my fault.

What the hell have I done?

"Don't you die on me you little fairy. Come on, Jack. Please! You gotta fucking breath. Come on."

He smiles again, more blood is coming from his mouth and all I can see is the little eight year old boy that was dropped on our doorstep all those years ago with that black sweatshirt that was five times too big for him and had face that was more black and blue than his abnormally pale skin tone. I can't lose my brother, but I can tell, the light is slowly leaving his eyes, and that bullet had to have hit a lung or something. Jack is gasping for air and there is nothing I can do to help him.

The only thing that I can do is watch him die a slow and painful death…

I have seen plenty of blood in my lifetime, more times than not I had been the one who had shed the blood. But this was different, against Jack's pale skin, the blood was brighter, it was staining everything. The white shirt that Jack had decided to wear that morning, the snow under him, the skin on his face as the blood goes from his mouth onto his cheek and then flows into the snow. I can't do this, I can't watch my baby brother die. But, I have too, I have to be the last thing that he sees before he dies.

I'm still crying, but I don't even care anymore. I don't care about being strong anymore, I only care about letting my baby brother know that I love him. The really fucked up thing is that I can't say the words out loud. I can't tell my baby brother that he changed me for the better, I had been so much worse before he had shown up, it still surprises me that Ma put up with me for so long before he showed up. But after the timid little kid that I caught smoking in our room when he was eight showed up, I couldn't be as violent. He followed me around everywhere after playing with a bunch of fucking tissue boxes for Christ sakes. Jack got scared when someone raised their voice, I couldn't do that shit when he was around.

I push the too long blond hair out of my baby brother's face as the light finally leaves his eyes and he stops convulsing as he attempts to breathe. I can hear Jerry and Angel crying behind me. I can't do this.

"Jack! Jack. Jack, come on, Jack, please! Please." I shake him a little, hoping that it will rattle him awake and that he will wake up laughing at us for some fucked up prank he'd just pulled on us. But I know this is real. I know that my baby brother isn't coming back.

Jackie's with Ma now.

This thought makes me angry and I pushed up from the ground, walking over to the van that Jerry had hit and grabbing a gun that someone had dropped onto the ground. When I reach the driver's side window, I'm seething. I want to punch something. I want to see the person who did this' blood on my hands.

"Who sent you? Victor Sweet?" I push the gun roughly into the man's temple, forcing him to look me in the eye, forcing him to stare down the man that holds his life in his hands.

He nods, "Yeah. Yeah, it was Sweet."

The shock causes me to bring the gun away from his temple as I think this over, but the man's next words only succeed in pissing me off even more.

"Thank God." He sighs.

He fucking sighed, like his life has just been spared. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was?

"Thank God? He killed my mother and my little brother, you motherfucker. Thank Victor Sweet."

The sound of the bullet is muffled by the close proximity to the man's temple and I can see the bullet come out the other side, his blood covering the passenger seat. I almost wish that I could have killed him slower. Maybe I should have shot one of his kneecaps first.

I don't feel better. I'm still crying, and I can't control myself right now. I need to get away, but I can't. I can't leave the only other brothers that I have left. I have to be strong for them.

Somewhere, Jack and Ma are watching us and Jack needs me to be strong for him. He didn't like it when people were worried about him, he definitely wouldn't like me crying about him. I just have to get through the rest of the day…and then I needed to figure out how to kill Sweet and this whole thing was over.

It had to be over.

I can't lose my other brothers.


End file.
